


Why do we love if we're so mistaken?

by j_gabrielle



Category: Kingsman (Movies), The King's Man
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Super self-indulgent writing, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 20:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20014531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: All he wants, all he needs is the quiet of their living room, the press of thighs against his on the sofa, the easy trading of kisses during the adverts.Conrad wants Mallory.





	Why do we love if we're so mistaken?

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from ['Gone' by Charli XCX & Christine and the Queens](https://youtu.be/chSZCtLrgz8) (it's my summer bop of 2019 and you should give it a listen)

It's a fevered press of bodies on the dancefloor; pushing, touching, reaching out. Conrad closes his eyes before his jack rabbiting heart can catch up with the way his mind is brushing up to the edges of anxiety. 

He wants to be anywhere but here.

(he wants strong arms, blue eyes that pin him onto their bed like a captured butterfly to be displayed, he wants warm calloused hands in his as he falls asleep, he wants kisses on his brow, his cheek, his lips, he wants to be home)

Conrad tries for a smile when his mates cheer at the drop of the beat, but it falls a little stiff. He has only had two sips of his drink, but he feels lightheaded. He moves his body to the beat, laughing a little breathlessly when one of the girls dancing near them snake an arm around his waist, pulling him to her. 

Gently, he pries himself away with a heated blush and a soft smile, turning back to the centre of their group.

Under the confusing flash of lights and the thick cloud of cigarettes hanging high above them, he licks his lips, understanding perhaps for the first time since he had stepped out of his house, that he doesn't want this. None of the hedonistic pursuits that his friends are so preoccupied with, none of the weekend releases they crave have the same hold on him. All he wants, all he needs is the quiet of their living room, the press of thighs against his on the sofa, the easy trading of kisses during the adverts. 

Conrad wants Mallory.

"I'm going home," He leans over, all but shouting the words. His mates shake their heads, but they are more amused than annoyed. Releasing him with tipsy promises that he will text them when he arrives, he cuts a quick path to the door, bumping into more than a few people in his haste.

It doesn't take long for him to catch a cab. Hastily giving the cabbie his address, he checks his phone, noting with a small clench of his heart, that there is no missed calls or messages. Conrad holds it tight in his hand, watching the London cityscape pass him by with no small amount of nervousness racing through him. 

He wants to say sorry for the way he had left things earlier in the evening. Conrad has never played fair and he always knew where it hurts the worst. Mallory had been stressed about work, and it hadn't helped that all of his insecurities had boiled over when one of Conrad's coworkers had commented about how wonderful it was to see him so close with his dad. The differences of their ages had always been a sore point, and Conrad had been cruel about it when lobbing it out during their argument.

The cab pulls up to the front gate and he pays the driver, climbing out of the car without waiting for his change. "Hello?" Conrad calls out when he unlocks the front door. He is greeted with the hum of the refrigerator and the slow settling of the house.

Swallowing back the desperation in him, he takes the stairs two at a time until he reaches the first floor, almost tripping over his feet to reach the door of Mallory's study. He can't quite help the rising despair in him when all that greets him is a darkened space lit only by the halogen lights from the street.

"Conrad?"

He sucks in a gasp. Turning so fast, his head swims with relief at the sight of Mallory standing at the door of their room. A quick look inside tells him that he had been reading in bed. Conrad closes the steps between them, reaching over for Mallory, tilting his head when he surges in for a kiss.

It starts off chaste and tinged with surprise, before Mallory sighs, relaxing against him, deepening the meeting of their lips. With an ease born of familiarity, strong arms wrap around his waist, and for the first time that night, Conrad feels the cold ball of misery come undone.

"Conrad, what's wrong?" Mallory asks when they pull away. Blue eyes look into his with concern, and he has to suppress the ridiculous laugh that bubbles up in his throat.

"I missed you. That's all," He says, curling a hand to Mallory's cheek, gently coaxing him back in for another kiss. "And I'm sorry. For what I said earlier."

Thin lips curve with gentle happiness, completely devoid of recrimination. "I'm sorry, too, my love." He says softly, each syllable uttered with fondness and adoration. Chest to chest, he closes his eyes, exhaling slowly as he nuzzles his nose to his.

"Come to bed?" Mallory asks eventually, drawing him further into the room. 

Conrad nods, kissing him breathless before smiling, stumbling after him, and closing the door with a back push of his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (j_gabrielle), Dreamwidth (j_gabrielle) and Tumblr (randomingoftherandomness, hardheartshere).
> 
> For those who say that I never said anything, it is clearly stated on my AO3 profile bio.
> 
> I do not have a Twitter account.
> 
> I do not have a Wattpad account.
> 
> **Please Do Not Repost My Fics**


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